


Spoils of the Avaar

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: How to Win a Losing Hand: One-Shots from the Love Story of Varric Tethras and Maria Cadash (Canon Dragon Age Setting) [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Jaws of Hakkon DLC, Exhibitionism If You Squint, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, The Avaar - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Varric Tethras Is So Done, Varric Tethras' Chest Hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24983704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Varric Tethras loves his girlfriend, the irrepressible Inquisitor Maria Cadash, even though she drags him to the worst places in Thedas. On a trip to the Frostback Basin, Varric's armor is ruined by one of the myriad disgusting creatures lurking in the wilderness.Luckily, there's a gift of Avaar armor waiting back at camp, and it looks damn fine on the Inquisitor's favorite Dwarven storyteller.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Inquisitor/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras - Relationship
Series: How to Win a Losing Hand: One-Shots from the Love Story of Varric Tethras and Maria Cadash (Canon Dragon Age Setting) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896694
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	Spoils of the Avaar

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the lovely [Schoute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schoute/) who showed us this _amazing_ [Avaar Armor mod for DA: Inquisition's Avaar DLC.](https://www.nexusmods.com/dragonageinquisition/mods/2168) This smut is dedicated to whoever has blessed me with the vision of Varric in Avaar armor. _Maker bless you._

Varric Tethras took a moment, while the next bolt rattled into Bianca’s chamber, to reconsider his life choices. Dwarves, after all, were not meant to be tromping through swamps full of mosquitos the size of his thumb, rancid-smelling gurguts, or slimy bogfishers. 

Nobody, apparently, ever informed Maria Cadash. 

The bolt flew from Bianca in an absolutely _beautiful_ burst of power but his own fine weapon was, as always, overshadowed by the fiery Inquisitor with her reckless grin landing two perfect shots at her very own poisonous spider shaped target. 

At that very moment, Dorian made some sort of quip he couldn’t quite hear over the sound of Cassandra’s damn grunting. Whatever the mage said made Maria tip her head back and roar with laughter, the sound bright as bells. His heart swelled within his chest. These moments, the ones that never quite made it into her personal mythology, burned brightest for him. 

Maker, he loved her. 

That second of distracted reverie cost him. His old, sentimental ass missed the _next_ damn spider rising from the swamp, teeth dripping venom. He fired a bolt at the same time it splattered it’s mouthful of poison in his direction. His gut reaction, to get his precious crossbow away from the corrosive poison, meant his armor took the disgusting slime. 

He gagged at the rotten scent drifting up from him and immediately cursed himself for _ever_ falling in love with someone who kept dragging him on these damn adventures. The last spider dropped with Bianca’s bolt in one of its eyes, leaving nothing but the sound of their panting and the rushing river behind them. 

That’s when he heard the sizzling. 

“Blast.” He grumbled, quickly shucking Bianca off and laying her gently on the muddy bank with a wincing apology. Looking down, he saw the acidic gunk bubbling through his leathers, turning them to black ooze. Deft fingers flew to latches just as he caught the bright scent of honeysuckle drifting closer. 

“I’m not complaining, but why are you taking your clothes off?” Maria asked, voice curling like laughter. He looked up from his work, tossing the ruined coat to the ground before piercing her with a look he hoped adequately conveyed how _over_ this bullshit he really was.

“Well Princess, I figured I’d offer the bugs some new flesh to pick over. I’m a giver like that.” 

His sarcasm didn’t dim the absolutely gleeful expression on her face, one that was steadily growing _more_ pleased instead of less, like a cat who’d gotten into the cream. “Varric.” She chided playfully. “Did you let the spiders slime you?” 

Much to his growing disgust, the leathers _underneath_ his coat were smoking just as badly as it had been. The corrosive poison quickly ate right through it to his undershirt and quite likely endangered the chest hair his pretty and problematic girlfriend was so very fond of. He ripped off the rest of the layers quickly, tossing all the ruined armor to the side and kicking it into the swamp for good measure. 

“Why did you _insist_ on bringing me to the shittiest place in Thedas?” Varric asked, gesturing to their surroundings. “Princess, there are _cities_ , you know. You could go to any of them and they’d roll right out the red carpet.” 

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?” Maria asked, her pale eyes darting quickly over his face, shoulders, then down his torso critically. She kept her careful, light tone but he knew the worried crinkle at the top of her nose. 

“If you weren’t the most beautiful woman in Thedas, I’d pack up my chest hair and head straight back to Kirkwall.” He teased. Maria’s grin quirked back up, her eyes growing warm with another expression he knew very well, raking down his bare chest. 

“If you weren’t the most handsome rogue in Thedas, I’d kick you out for your incessant complaining.” Her eyes focused on the dense hair covering his chest and her fingers on her left hand twitched, a tell if he ever saw one. “Besides, your finest asset is still intact.” 

“My eyes are up here, Princess.” His own ill humor melted away under the lust rising in his blood. 

“I’m aware.” Maria hummed softly, not bothering to lift her eyes. Varric chuckled. 

Cassandra made a noise of disgust in the distance, he could just picture her rolling her eyes skyward in a plea to the Maker for patience with the unruly Inquisitor and her disreputable lover. He also knew Cassandra well enough by now to spot the blush in her cheeks as well, if he could pull his eyes away from Maria.

Which he certainly couldn’t. 

“I suppose we’ll be making our way back to camp then?” Dorian asked, loudly. “Or shall we leave you two to whatever happens in this muck?” 

Maria’s grin lifted even higher, and yes, Varric loved her, but he needed to put a stop to that thought _quickly_. 

“I think I’m owed an ale, a bath, and new armor.” Varric grumbled, good-natured. “Then we can see about you making this up to me.” 

“If you insist.” Maria sighed, looping her arm through his. “I’ll stick beside you, since your _finest_ asset needs the extra protection.” 

“And I will take point.” Cassandra declared. “Since the Inquisitor will not be paying attention to anything else.” 

Maria’s grin took on a wicked edge that nearly made him reconsider the river bank. “Cass, can you blame me?” 

* * *

Maria felt badly about Varric’s armor, to an extent. And ancestors, she couldn’t thank their lucky stars enough that her daft man hadn’t _actually_ injured himself. Miraculously, not even a single chest hair suffered damage, even Bianca looked just as winchy and intact as ever. Although, of course, Varric fussed over it like a baby while she sorted out his bath in apology. 

As much as she wanted to stay for the _actual_ bath, just to relieve the knot of desire that settled in her belly while she watched him stomp through the undergrowth to get back to camp with his manly torso bare to her roaming eyes, she needed to see to the million things requiring her attention. Defeating an ice dragon _should_ have cleared out the Hakkonites but some still lingered in pockets in the hills, harrying Inquisition troops and their new Avaar allies. Plus, supplying all their camps in the hostile terrain proved an adequate challenge for her best advisors. 

Almost as challenging as erecting camps in the first place. But, as Maria paused from studying the maps laid in front of her to glance out over the forest canopy, she couldn’t complain about the final result. She felt like a bird perched high above politics, above war, above all the tiny things. Up here, in the treehouses, she felt _free_. 

“Thane Sun-Hair sends a gift for Inquisitor First-Thaw.” One of the Avaar scouts said, holding out a mountain of leather and fur for her perusal. “Fine Avaar armor for your companion.” 

“For my companion?” Maria asked, pulling her attention from the forest with a frown. “Which one?” 

“The other dwarf. Our tribe trades with Orzammar, and Thane Sun-Hair thought you would appreciate this gift. She sends it as chief to chief, woman to woman.” 

Well, she hadn’t ever received a gift for Varric before from an ally and she honestly didn’t know the protocol for it. There wasn’t even time to send a brief, confused missive to Josephine about Avaar customs asking for advice.

Fuck it, she wouldn’t look a gift-nug in the mouth. “That’s a stroke of luck. My thanks to Thane Sun-Hair. Varric just took a shot of poison to the chest this morning, he’ll need a new set of armor.” 

The Avaar messenger bit her lip, amusement dancing in her eyes. “If it isn’t too bold to ask…” 

Maria couldn’t help her smug, satisfied smirk. “The chest hair is still very much intact.” 

The Avaar woman tipped her head back and roared with laughter, clutching the furs and leather that much tighter. “Thank the gods for that! I’ll deliver these to him myself, if it pleases you.” 

Maria liked the wicked delight dancing in the woman’s eyes, it made her think that maybe running off to join the Avaar the next time she got sick of Orlesians wouldn’t be the worst thing. Besides, she couldn’t _wait_ to see what Varric looked like in Avaar armor. 

“Thank you.” Maria replied sweetly, turning back to the map. 

* * *

She didn’t know how much time passed after that, but it was enough to scribble off three letters, decode Leliana’s urgent missive, and make it halfway through Cullen’s latest scrawled note, clearly written when he should have been sleeping. 

“Princess.” Varric’s smooth voice curled around her from behind, instantly dispelling her sour mood at Cullen's poor handwriting. “I’ve gotta say, if you wanted me to show more skin, all you needed to do was ask.” 

Oh that sounded _promising._ Maria dropped Cullen’s note without a second thought, twisting in her chair to seek out Varric behind her. 

The sight of him very nearly sent her swooning straight off the walkway. Varric leaned easily back against the wooden wall of the tree house, his easy confidence on full display, along with _acres_ of his glorious flesh. Maria sent a prayer of thanks up to blighted Andraste herself for this little surprise and made a mental note to send an effusive letter of thanks to Thane Sun-Hair. 

The leather half-coat, trimmed with soft fur, framed Varric’s chest hair and the rippling muscles he usually left to the imagination. Maria’s eyes fell to the point where the hair narrowed, vanishing into the indecently-tight doeskin pants, also framed with soft fur. Then her hungry gaze darted back up to follow his brawny, thick arms.

Suddenly, everything else fell down the priority list. She had only _one_ task she desperately needed to accomplish, as soon as possible. 

“Eyes are still up here, Princess.” Varric practically purred. 

Maria nearly toppled the chair she sat in her race to his side, pressing her greedy hands to the dense hair covering his chest, exploring all the displayed muscles with leisurely, firm strokes as she pressed closer, lifting her lips to trace his jaw. “The Inquisitor _greatly_ approves of this choice of armor.” 

When Varric first unrolled the leathers, he hadn’t been able to stop laughing. Maker knew where Maria got them from, but he assumed the absolutely _risque_ armor was a pointed invitation. He didn’t expect the delighted surprise painting her features when she turned around, but the shock quickly vanished to be replaced with surging heat. Still, he had to ask: “Maria, where in Thedas did this come from?” 

Maria, distracted and _quickly_ veering off course, took a beat too long to answer his inquiry. Her small, nimble hands traced down his ribs, dipped a bit too low for propriety to trace the soft breeches. “They were a gift for me. And sweet, soddin’ ancestors, what a gift.” 

Varric almost groaned when she looked up from beneath the sweep of her lashes, face coloring rosey pink under her freckles. He knew that look, and he knew _exactly_ what to do with it. He reached out with a playful growl, fingers digging into the softness of Maria’s hips and dragging her to his chest, searching for her lips with his. She tipped her face up eagerly, pressing up against him like the wanton little thing he knew she was, all sultry heat and artful squirming designed to drive him to the edge. His little minx, right where he wanted her. 

Maria couldn’t get enough of the press of his skin to hers. She itched to pull off her own bodice and blouse, the barrier of thin fabric too much to bear while Varric kissed her senseless, kissed her until every thought flew out of her head except the desperate urge to push him into bed, the sooner the better. With that, she used every tool to her advantage, shifting the angle of the kiss to capture his tongue with hers while she raked her nails gently down his exposed chest. She rolled her body to drag her hips against his, capturing his stuttered groan triumphantly. Victory made her bold and she traced her fingers back up, tugging pointedly on the hair decorating his glorious chest. 

Varric quickly nipped her lower lip in retaliation for her teasing with a dark chuckle, one that didn’t quite drown out the needy whimper that fell from Maria’s lips. He broke the kiss, almost panting from desire, taking in her closed eyes and plump lips still open in a perfect little o. 

He had to have her, and if they didn’t move soon, he’d be taking her over the walkway railing while her troops trained below. _Again_. 

“Please tell me you’re done working for today.” Varric murmured into her ear, making her shiver. 

“I’m not going to get anything else done with you walking around like _this_.” Maria whined, debating tugging the hair on his chest _again_ to make her damn point. Before she could, Varric stepped back and ducked, slipping his broad arms around her thighs and tossing her _far_ too easily up over his muscled shoulder. 

Maria’s squeal of surprise was music to his ears, especially when it was followed by ringing laughter that echoed off the treetops. She resumed her spirited wiggling with gusto, practically begging for him to swat the deliciously plump ass he kept following into these Maker-forsaken places. 

It was rude to leave a lady wanting, and Varric prided himself on being the consummate gentleman, so he gave her the gentle swat she wanted. He felt the resulting clench of her thighs over his shoulder and immediately picked up his pace, speeding toward the little hut set aside for Maria’s use. 

Maria giggled, running her fingers down the flexing muscles of Varric’s back, only barely covered by the _completely impractical_ and _utterly wonderful_ armor. Varric shoved open the cabin door with his shoulder, then kicked it closed, refusing to release his hold on her. His dizzying strength, courtesy of that blighted, bulky crossbow, made her insides squirm _before_ he threw her onto the dual sleeping rolls and furs that consisted of their bed while they were out and about. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was on her, tearing her blouse from her pants to let his fingers walk up her revealed skin. He laughed again at her impatient huff, then louder as her own fingers tugged at the strings of her bodice, desperate to get it _off_ so Varric could-

Varric captured Maria’s impatient hands, circling her delicate wrists and pinning them above her head. Maria arched rebelliously, her half-unlaced clothing revealing a tempting swell of pale, freckled flesh. He could give her what she wanted, and eventually he always did, but she was responsible for his current _ridiculous_ armor situation, along with the myriad mosquito bites he’d be complaining about for days. 

Some retribution was owed, it was only fair. 

She bucked with a whine and Varric used his free hand to tug the laces open just a bit farther, dipping his fingers beneath the stiff leather and soft cotton to search out her pebbled nipple beneath the fabric. He found it easily, his touch on the achingly sensitive point caused her to moan far too loudly, both in desperation and relief. Maria found his smug, cocky grin both sexy as hell and _annoying,_ but there wasn’t much she could do about it with her hands pinned, stretching her out on the soft furs beneath her back. 

Varric rolled the nipple between his rough, calloused fingers and Maria bit her lip to bite off another moan, denying him the victory he wanted. Varric smirked and gave the sensitive bud another tweak, shaking his head. “Princess, have I ever told you how sexy you are when you’re stubborn?” 

Maker, she was _perfect_. His cock throbbed inside his pants at just the sight of her like this, mused and flushed, not the perfect leader of the Inquisition, but just _Maria._ _His_ Maria. If he ignored the flickering green light winding up to her right wrist, he could pretend there was nothing waiting for them outside this warm bubble. 

He fought back the urge to check the mark in her palm, to ease his suspicions it was growing no matter what she said, concentrating instead on breaking her beneath him. He leaned down to pepper kisses down her jaw and throat, sucking a bruising kiss on the junction where her neck met sloping shoulders. That action made her gasp, the sound _nearly_ an echo of his name. He kissed the tender spot, laving it with extra attention as he murmured praise against her skin. “You look so damn good like this, beautiful. Makes me wanna keep you pinned right here.”

Varric’s words got under her skin and made her squirm with need, her core clenching against the emptiness that _desperately_ needed filled. Stone take her, if he decided to keep her right here between his teasing fingers and the hard planes of his body, she wouldn’t even be able to find it in her to complain. She tried to summon some semblance of command to her voice, though, even if it sounded raspy and weak to her own ears. “It’s gonna take you that long to get the show on the road, Tethras?” 

Varric’s talented mouth made his way leisurely down her overheated skin, nuzzling into the half-unlaced bodice with a hum of consideration. “Depends on whether or not you behave.” 

Oh, the urge to misbehave was nearly irresistible, but the conflicting urge to _promise_ to be good if he just kept going was just as strong. Before she could make up her mind, he pulled the rest of the laces, discarding the bodice and tugging her blouse up to reveal her breasts. Apparently, Varric was intent on making her beg, because instead of capturing them with his mouth, he simply ran his stubbled jaw over the sensitive flesh, making her skin prickle. Maria bit her lip so hard she feared she’d draw blood, listening to his rich laughter as he body arched into his touch, offering herself up like a tempting meal. 

Maker, Varric wanted to taste every inch of her delicious body. His hot breath against her sensitive nipples was enough to make her shiver again, but he waited, his free hand continuing to pluck at the other bud, leaving the one by his lips aching and neglected. His teasing was wearing her down to the point where tiny, needy noises were escaping her bitten, swollen lips. Another gentle pinch was enough to send her moaning again, _his_ name this time, followed by a vicious threat. “Varric Tethras, if you don’t get to work right now, I swear on your Ancestors I’ll shoot you with your own crossbow.”  
  
He summoned all the feigned innocence he could into his expression, widening his eyes and raising his head to meet Maria’s dark, stormy eyes. Her lips twitched, which made his own expression falter into a lopsided grin. “All you needed to do was ask, Princess.” 

Before Maria could work on a properly acidic retort, his lips sealed over her nipple and sucked. All the words she had failed her, left her with no option but to gasp her pleasure to the thatched ceiling. Varric mimicked the rolling motion of his fingers on one breast with his tongue on the other, kindling the fire of desire building low in her belly. She sang her encouragement, tossing her head back on the furs and crying his name out. “Varric, Varric, Varric-!” 

His lips plopped off her breast with an obscene and _perfect_ sound, growling his own enthusiastic response. “That’s it beautiful, tell everyone who’s making you feel this good.” 

He released her wrists and tore both blouse and bodice the rest of the way off, tossing them away before hooking his fingers in her breeches and yanking them down, grumbling in muted disappointment when he ran into her boots. The second he removed the soft fabric, the heady scent of her arousal permeated the space. She giggled while he fumbled her boots, his mouth watering before he threw the rest of her clothes to the side. 

He reached up to the clasps in the Avaar armor, but Maria quickly reached out for his arm, her nails digging into the muscles in a gentle tease. “Leave it on.” She commanded with a wicked grin, her heated gaze raking across him again. “I _like_ it.” 

Maker, when she looked at him like that, he’d do whatever she asked. Grinning, he toyed with the fasteners. “I’m feeling rather objectified, Princess. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.” 

Oh, he looked so damn smug she didn’t know whether to kiss him or smack him. Instead of doing either, she pinned him with her own smirk, and slowly brought her hands to her own skin. She smoothed her palms over her heated, tender flesh, lingering over the sensitive points of her nipples before sliding over her generous curves. Varric watched her fingers moving like a fish on a hook as Maria reclined back on the furs, bending her knees and spreading her thighs to reveal her slick folds. She slipped one finger down to part her pussy, circling her swollen clit with a soft moan. Varric watched, riveted, as her fingers moved to dip into her hot center, emerging drenched in her own wetness. 

“ _Now_ you’re being objectified.” Maria sighed, letting her gaze take in the paragon of manliness she was lucky enough to call her lover, the one she'd finally stunned into speechlessness. Everything about him, from the amusement sparkling in his clever eyes to those tempting, firm muscles was damn _perfect_. She moaned, bringing her other hand back up to cup her breast and running her thumb over her nipple. “Stay right there, handsome, and I’ll just enjoy the view.” 

And what a view it was, Varric thought. Maria chasing her own pleasure, her body arching as she put on a little show just for him. Her hips rolled, chasing her own fingers that danced expertly around her clit. Every so often she’d give herself the barest hint of pressure, just the slightest tease that made her muscles clench. Without even realizing what he was doing, he undid the laces on his own breeches, withdrawing his aching cock to palm it’s length while Maria watched, eyes hooded, her body coloring with arousal and desire, so hot he could feel the waves coming off her, igniting the very air in the room. Andraste herself couldn’t have been more lovely. 

Varric’s heated gaze trailing over her flesh left palpable marks, it helped push herself higher than she could usually go with nothing but her own fingers. Her breath came in gasps as she watched him watching _her_ with that particular look he got sometimes, like he was trying to commit every inch of her to memory, like he’d immortalize her in print forever if he could, suspend them in time and space until the world crashed down around their ears. 

She could feel her muscles tightening, hips jerking, desperate to finish this race to the end, but she needed more. “Varric.” She whimpered. “Varric, I need…” 

Like he’d read her mind, just like he always did, he closed the meager distance between their bodies and brought his hand to join hers. Two fingers sunk into her, rough and _perfect_ , pumping in and out while Maria shifted her focus to her clit. She arched, the pressure building until she thought she’d explode, spine taut as a tripwire. 

Leave it to Varric to know how to disarm a trap. He curled his fingers forward on the next stroke, leaving Maria with no choice but to wail her approval for everyone to hear. She clenched down, everything breaking in slow motion, a perfect crystalline moment that ended far too soon and left her panting and boneless, staring up at Varric through a haze of pleasure.

“Fuck, beautiful.” Varric’s voice rasped with desperate lust. “ _Fuck_ , I could watch you do that a hundred times.” 

A weak laugh escaped her throat. “Promises, promises.” 

While she watched, Varric brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean with a relish that made her core clench again in white hot desire before he looked back down at her from where he knelt between her thighs. “Oh Princess, I intend to deliver.” 

Maria moaned as he scooped her up from the furs, settling her on his broad thighs. She felt the thick, weeping head of his cock against her slick folds and shuddered, reaching down greedily to guide him inch by delicious inch into her. He stretched her so beautifully, scorching the nerves that hadn’t settled, rekindling the fire in her belly in a moment. 

For a second, he left himself sheathed inside her, dropping his head to her shoulder to kiss the freckles dotting her skin. Her fingers twisted in the loose hair at his neck, holding him to her tenderly, stroking softly while they basked in being joined, the rightness of their coupling. 

“Hold on Princess.” He murmured, running his broken nose up the side of her neck and over the delicate shell of her ear. “Hold onto me, beautiful, let me take care of you.” 

Maria tightened her hold on him just in time, his first thrust making her scream with triumphant pleasure. His own grip would leave bruises on her waist, but she would relish these marks, the proof of their passionate embraces. Varric set a languid pace, guiding her to a slow rise, letting their arousal build together. There were no words, just moans growing steadily louder, their pounding heartbeats, and breathy gasps. Maria, forgetting the mark burning in her hand for the first time in a long time, cupped his jaw and brought his lips to hers as the pleasure crested again, her muscles clenching on Varric’s hard cock. 

Her climax dragged him to his own, even as he tried desperately to grit his teeth and keep going. The taste of her lips was too sweet, the call of his pleasure too tempting. His balls ached to be emptied, so he roared his approval into her kiss, pulling her as close as he could as his thrusts became jerky, spilling his seed into her welcoming body, her soft walls holding him fast as he groaned. 

Maria giggled when she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his, pliant and soft under rough hands that couldn’t stop roaming over her alabaster skin. He opened his eyes to stare into hers, the sweet affection in them making his heart ache. 

“I love you.” She whispered. 

He’d never heard three words he loved more. With a satisfied smile, he closed his eyes again and rested easily in her embrace. “I love you too, Maria." 

**Author's Note:**

> Are you also obsessed with Varric Tethras's chest hair? If the answer is yes, come join the Varric Tethras fan club at: [cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/). I take requests!


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